


any thrill will do

by myialeighanne



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bottom Peter Parker, Breathplay, Choking, Gratuitious Use of Commas, Light Dom/sub, Light daddy kink, M/M, Top Quentin Beck, and periods tbh, blink and you miss it dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myialeighanne/pseuds/myialeighanne
Summary: The boy is obvious. Beautiful, with drive and raw talent, but glaringly, painfully green. Unsophisticated. Unpolished. Wet behind the ears. He needs him. Needs a mentor, a confidant, a daddy. Quentin will be all of that for him.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 132





	any thrill will do

**Author's Note:**

> this is purely self-indulgent and vaguely criminal minds inspired. title from someone new by hozier.

Peter smiles, contemplative as he catches the eye of the man who had been watching him all night. He doesn’t really want this one, at least not like that; he’s handsome, and the right age, but he’s bigger and stronger looking than Peter usually goes for. It’s risky, choosing him, but he’s the only one who stands out to him in the small Wednesday crowd and the itch under his skin just can’t wait until the weekend. Yes, he’ll just have to make do.

He practically struts over, slides right up next to him, and plays the part of the innocent, adorable twink so well it’s practically Oscar-worthy. It was at least good enough that it only took about ten minutes of small talk, a well-placed hand on his thigh, and a gently bitten lip to have the man, who said his name was Quentin, agree to come up to his hotel room. Peter almost wants to laugh at how desperate he was, but he wasn’t going to pass up easy prey.

***

The boy is obvious. Beautiful, with drive and raw talent, but glaringly, painfully green. Unsophisticated. Unpolished. Wet behind the ears. He needs him. Needs a mentor, a confidant, a daddy. Quentin will be all of that for him. 

He hadn’t been hard to find, only 4 months since he started killing and he had already made so many mistakes that Quentin was shocked the police hadn’t already caught him, no matter how low-grade and ineffective they were. He had gotten his last two victims from the same bar, and that’s what gave him away.

Peter Parker, 19, doe-eyed and sweet, working two jobs to pay MIT tuition, obsessed with Star Wars. Quentin supposes the innocent looks and soft personality are what made the detectives look over him. Indeed, his first kill was most likely an accident, and the rush of comfort, release from stress, is what made him do it again. 

The boy is impatient too. As soon as Quentin caught his eye he sauntered over, sitting right by him and starting to flirt after barely introducing himself. Arrogant. Luckily for him Quentin isn’t looking to play any games tonight, so when he slides his hand up his thigh and suggests they go to his room, he readily agrees. It hasn’t even been 15 minutes. Easy. 

***

He had been right about the man being strong. The moment the doors shut they’re all over each other, stripping in between aggressive kisses and then he’s pushing him face-first onto the bed and pulling his legs apart like its nothing. It probably is nothing, but Peter is a little bit nervous about the vulnerable position he’s in until the man drops to his knees behind him and starts licking into him. It feels good, fantastic, and Peter lets himself enjoy it for a few minutes, until a finger breaches him and he realizes his time is almost up. The knife is under the pillow on the left side of the bed, and if he’s to reach it, and reach Quentin’s neck, he’s going to need to get on top. A second finger presses in, right against his prostate, and he loses his train of thought, clenching down and trying to push back.

“You wanna ride daddy’s cock, baby?” his voice is low and rumbly and makes him shake, but his head is clear enough for him to realize that this is the perfect opportunity. He nods, frantically, and lets himself be manhandled into position. He’s panting by the end of it, and the rest of his breath is knocked out of him when he’s pulled down onto Quentin’s cock. It’s big, stretching and pushing against his walls, and he has to scramble to get a grip on the man’s chest so he won’t fall over as he gets bounced up and down. It’s so, so good. 

So good he almost forgets what he’s here to do, until a particularly rough thrust from Quentin brings him to his senses. He leans forward and plants on arm by his head, and slips the other underneath the pillow, looking for that heavy leather handle. He doesn’t find it. Panic builds in his chest, and he tries to remember if he had actually put it in position before he went to the bar. Christ, if it isn’t there than where the fuck is it, and what is Peter supposed to do without it? He’s so busy trying to make a new plan that he almost doesn’t notice Quentin stop.

He tries to school his face, and glances down at the man, who’s smirking up at him, but before he can ask why he stopped he says something that makes Peter’s heart stop.

“Looking for something?” 

***

The face he makes is adorable, fear and confusion apparent even as he tries to hide it. He stops his stuttered response almost before it starts by rolling them over and pinning him down, cock still inside of him, and grabbing his throat. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, baby. I know exactly what you are, I’ve been watching you for months.” he watches with satisfaction as tears well up in his eyes and he shakes his head. He squeezes tighter. “You think you’re so smart? You are, of course, but not that smart. You got sloppy, honey, and you’re lucky it was me who found you first.” he punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, and lets up on his throat so that he could gasp for air. 

“P-Please, you’re not- don’t h-hurt me.” he’s crying for real now, and Quentin wants to coo at how cute it is. “I’m not going to hurt you, Peter, I’m here to help.” he angles his hips on the next thrust, and Peter wails, thrashing around. “You’re cocky, greedy. You need someone to show you what to do. If you keep going like this you’ll get caught within the month.” He glares down at him, and stills his hips to lean down and press a gentle kiss to his tear-stained cheek. 

“But it’s okay, baby, I’m gonna take care of you.” there’s a little bit of hope in his eyes now, even as he whimpers. “Y-you are?”   
It makes him smile, and he resumes rocking into him “Of course I will, you don’t have to worry about anything.” he whines, pushing back against him “P-please-”

“Please what?”   
“Please daddy! I- I need it!” he groans, thrusting a little faster, and tightening his grip again. “Yeah, baby, gonna fucking take care of you, teach you how to be good at this.” Peter’s pulse is hammering under his fingers, and he feels himself getting close “And when you aren’t good…” he cuts his breathing off completely. 

He expected him to struggle, kick, something, but instead he just stares up at him, eyes wide and trusting. “Jesus Christ.” he hisses, “You fucking want it, don’t you?” he lets up again, lets him gasp for a couple of seconds, before speaking “I’m going to squeeze again, and this time I won’t let up until I come, got it?” Peter nods, tilting his head to give him better access. Oh, Quentin’s going to have so much fun with him. 

He starts slamming into him, hard enough to leave bruises on his ass for days, and squeezes his neck without care. Within seconds he’s coming, cock untouched, hole going so tight around him that he follows him right over the edge, filling him to the brim.

When he releases him he stays lax, eyes glassy and unfocused, but he still whines as Quentin pulls out. He ignores it, pulling him into his lap and running his hand through his sweat matted curl, giving him a minute to collect himself. 

“What happens now?”

He smiles, trails his hand from his hair to his mouth, and lets his thumb slip between his lips. “Now, we’re going to go get cleaned up, and I’m taking you home with me. We’ll figure the rest out in the morning.” Peter stops sucking his thumb and gazes at him, eyes still half-lidded “You’re really going to take care of me?” he whispers. and Quentin promises him he will, starts showing it by wiping him down and helping him get dressed. He can’t help but be smug, by the way Peter is already so willing to follow his orders, teaching should be easier than he thought. They’re going to be good together, he can tell.


End file.
